


The Ascian That Stole My Heart and Tore Me Apart

by Mana_Syx



Series: Sad WOL Hours [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injury, Introspection, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Memories, Pain, Sad, Sad and Sweet, Sobbing, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25546258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mana_Syx/pseuds/Mana_Syx
Summary: So this takes after the innocence fight, there are major spoilers for ShadowBringers in here.It is my Wol Mikha dealing with everything happening while he's struggling against the light and then the aftermath of what happened in the tempest. I also spent a lot of time just explore my Wol's feelings and thoughts throughout a majority of it and near the end start leaning into more exarch/WoL, but its more deep friendship for this fic.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: Sad WOL Hours [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845967
Kudos: 1





	The Ascian That Stole My Heart and Tore Me Apart

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WORK CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR FINAL FANTASY XIV: SHADOWBRINGERS 5.0-5.2 PLEASE BE AWARE OF THIS BEFORE READING AND ENJOY.
> 
> Also, the mention of suicide is for a very brief part near the end of the story, no one actually commits suicide but there is some suicide ideation briefly and if that makes you uncomfortable then you don't have to read this and I'm sorry, I wasn't really planning on having it there but when I wrote it, it fits so well. 
> 
> Also if you are feeling like committing suicide or have experienced suicide ideation pls consider talking to a therapist/psychologist/psychiatrist/doctor about it or call a helpline. The world is a better place with you in it.

Travelling into the Tempest while trying to keep light from taking over, Mikha couldn't help but think of all that had happened since coming to the first and he began to wonder when his heart had made its home with the Ascian, Emet-Selch.

What had started as distrust had slowly but surely grown into careful companionship and even friendship, casual gestures of affection and endearments. Before he even knew what was happening he was waking up beside the man, starting and ending their days together, some nights were chaste and tender, others passionate and desperate clinging to each other as if they were to let go the other would disappear. 

There had to be some irony to the situation, the warrior of light turned warrior of darkness falling for the man who was supposed to be his enemy, an ascian and one of the highest rank no less, he thought. And although he knew all this he still found comfort in being with him, someone who understood the burden he had to bear, the weight of an entire world on his shoulders, being responsible for all those lives. Someone who was so very tired but continued onwards towards the goal of saving his home and everyone in it. 

There were many things to be learned from being with someone who lived on the other side of the coin. Things he hadn't ever thought to question in his life he started to, one of the biggest ones being about the true difference between the light and dark, Haedalyn and Zodiark, whether they were truly only good and only evil, whether the ascians were truly his enemy. Whether their goals, missions were truly so different, so fundamentally incompatible. 

He had muddled and complicated the warrior’s point of view, uprooted many things he believed about the world and his place in it and turned his life upside down, but in doing so had given him food for thought. Where he had been blindly following the path of light, he now treads carefully. Being in the first and his time with Emet had taught him that while the light was warm and gentle at times it was also ruthless and could corrupt even the best of them.

Now walking along the sand carefully avoiding the creatures around him he realized that the worst irony of all wasn’t falling for the ascian no, it was that he who had fought in the name of light was now struggling so desperately to keep it at bay, to keep it from breaking soul and taking control. 

He was hurting and he was angry, angry Haedalyn for allowing what happened in the first to happen, at his friends for not telling him what the light was doing to him, even at G’raha Tia for recklessly trying to sacrifice himself to save Mikha, but most of all at himself for believing he could take what destroyed others broke them beyond recognition and warped them into creatures who only lived to feed on aether. It had hurt when Emet had called him a monster and a disappointment, the words cut deep being said by the one he thought loved him and did nothing to ease the burden of the power trying to consume him but instead increase it. 

After a lengthy investigation and some assistance from the Ondo, Mikha and the Scions reach the grand city, with impossibly large buildings, doorways built so tall that if you stacked all the scions on top of each other they might not even touch the top of the frame. The place was only a shade of what had once been much like its inhabitants. 

Something of unease and nostalgia was brought on by walking these city streets, it settled roots in his heart and sunk deep in his stomach. The arduous process to see Emet-Selch (and rescue G’raha Tia so he could give a lecture about reckless self-sacrifice) did nothing to distract from the feeling. Several times during his journey through the gargantuan city he had to stop as he was sent into fits of coughing, splatters of liquid light painted the ground beneath his shuddering bent over form as he clung to a wall to keep himself from completely collapsing.    
  
It would be easier supposed, just giving into the light and letting himself be consumed. The weight of the world would be lifted from his shoulders, even if he would be broken beyond repair or recognition, but he would be no more, so onwards he continued. As the day dragged on the pangs of pain and fits of breathlessness grew ever closer together, at times his vision blurred, his headache, every breath felt as though he were strapped into a corset 2 sizes too small or perhaps a gigantic nix was sitting on his diaphragm.

In one of the buildings, he had to go to in order to do the correct paperwork to see Emet-Selch, an Amaurotine who introduced themself as Hythlodeus asked if he could sit beside him while they waited. He had not expected the conversation that came next for two reasons, one, no one thus far had treated him as more than a child and two, not only was Hythlodeus aware of his own predicament as a shade but also he could sort of see Ardbert. He had told him of how he reminded him of someone who had been very important to Emet, that his soul was the same unmistakable colour. 

This conversation gave him a lot to think about, had Emet been following and watching and getting close to him because he saw a shard of what had once been or perhaps he was hoping that maybe Mikha would remember him, remember their shared past. He did not know the answer, but it also made him wonder if perhaps Emet had not loved him but was only being with him because he reminded him of his lost love. As he thought on this, he also thought about how Emet had been so harsh to him as the light threatened to take over, perhaps it was an attempt to protect himself from further pain if he eventually died. Whatever the case may be the warrior of light now realized that Emet was hurting and angry as well. 

Finally, they reached the hall where Emet-Selch was to meet them, the scions had braced themselves for a fight and kept close to Mikha so as to protect him; something very few had done in the years since he had taken up the mantle of the Warrior of Light. It felt nice but also frightening because the last person who had protected him so had died doing it and that had broken him, those final words echoed through the haze and rang in his mind clearly “A smile better suits a hero” he had said with his dying breath.

Shaking his head, now was not the time to mourn again for a man who had died years prior in another world, it was not the time for tears or sorrow. Holding his head high he pushed the large doors open and they all walked in, directly in front of them stood the man himself, the ascian who had stolen his heart and tore him apart, before another set of large ornate doors.

He had given a lengthy monologue and explained his reasons and then threw open the doors to reveal the true demise of Amaurot and walked forth into the flames. The warrior and scions had given chase into the apocalyptic landscape, fighting creatures unlike any they had ever seen, dodging crashing buildings and flames. 

As they progressed deeper into the chaos Emet’s voice spoke in his mind, telling of what had happened, was happening, in another time and place but also here and now, before he knew what was happening he heard another voice speaking to him alongside Emet. 

  
  


As they grew closer to the final battle, to Emet, the light grew more violent, rearing its head every time he was lax in his attention to repressing it. As the last creature is slain he can feel the light breaking through his hold, Emet saunters towards them, cocky and indifferent, cold. 

He flicked his hand and a shock wave sent the scions sprawling on the ground around Mikha who was bent over one knee panting desperately trying to hold himself together and keep the light at bay. As he tried to collect himself he heard Alisaie launch herself at Emet, attacking with all she had but he knocked with such force that she did not get back up. Alphinaud rushed to her side and said something but the warrior was not sure what as his mind was too hazy, before he knew what was happening arrows crashed down from above the twins. 

The sight of them laying there, Alphinaud protectively curled around his sibling's body and something in him snapped, ignoring the pain Mikha pulled himself to his feet and began to weakly drag himself towards Emet. He was not going to lose everyone here, not now, seeing them like that had sent immense pain through his heart and soul, a pain he had never wanted to experience again. Emet readied another attack, Urianger created a barrier around the warrior of light before it could hit him and Y’shtola readied an attack, Mikha did not know when they had gotten back up but was glad all the same. Smoke bloomed from where Emet’s attack had hit the dome and from the smoke shot out two magical attacks aimed at Y’shtola and Urianger knocking them out instantly. 

Collapsing again as the light spilled forth from within Mikha clutched at his chest desperate for breath as Emet finished speaking. The words “Weary Wanderer no fight left to fight, no life left to live” repeated themselves over and over in his mind, was Emet truly talking about him, to him. The idea that Emet could truly think so lowly of him made him nauseous, had he truly meant so little to Emet, he had doubted his own worth plenty of times, but his conversation with Hythlodeus had renewed his confidence and hope that Emet was not lost to him yet. It stung more than he ever thought it could. All of sudden Thancred launched past him at Emet Gunblade in hand, but he was not fast enough for he had a shield up and was pushing Thancred back before he could even make contact. As soon as Thancred gave the go-ahead to Ryne to help Emet put more in to throw Thancred backwards and then sent out a shot of pure power from his hand through Ryne causing her to fall to the ground. 

After that everything faded to white and he fell completely to the ground when he opened his eyes again beside him in the bleached expanse of nothingness was Arbert.

“If you had the strength to take one more step, could you do it?” he asked, “could you save our worlds?”

Mikha closed his eyes for a moment in thought before replying, “You know I could.” 

Smiling Arbert pulled down his axe and held it out Mikha smiling, “Take it, we fight as one.” 

He watched as Arbert turned into aether, he felt their beings fuse together and then an immense burst of power as the light that had been threatening to take him was pushed out. Suddenly he could breathe easier and the grand expanse of white had faded away back to the end of Amaurot where Emet stood shielding himself from its brightness. 

Lifting himself to his feet he spoke with more purpose than he had ever before, “This world is not yours to end...This is our future. Our story.”

Confusion wrought across Emet-Selch’s face for a but a moment “No...It can’t be…”

As the light finally faded and Emet lowered his arms, his disappointment clear on his face. 

“Bah, a trick of light. You are a broken husk, nothing more.” He spat, “How could you hope to stand against me alone?”

Suddenly a familiar voice called from behind Emet, “We stand together!”

There barely standing, relying heavily on his staff for support, was the Crystal Exarch, G’raha Tia. Emet turned to him surprised that he could even still stand much less fight. He then began to cast calling forth champions from beyond the rift, Warriors of light from other worlds to come to their aid. Seven summoning circles appeared and bright light shot upward from them as G’raha Tia slammed his staff against the ground. Emet-Selch turned and walked towards the warrior talking until he finally stopped moving his hand downwards across his face revealing his ascian mark glowing in front of his face. 

“I am Hades! He who shall awaken our brethren from their dark slumber!” he announced before dark energy burst forth around him, swallowing him and everything around him. 

Soon the warrior was surrounded by darkness and from it came forth masks, hundreds and hundreds of ascian masks in various colour combinations, sizes, and styles. Then one faded into being and soon followed a body composed of other masks, Hades, he realized was what stood before him. Large wing-like appendages filled with faces, shining purple filled his view. 

Suddenly Thancred came jumping through the air with an auracite crystal which he proceeded to break and through into the ascians body. In the back of his mind part of Mikha hoped Emet wouldn’t die, that this wouldn’t be the end, that he wouldn’t have to lose another person who meant so much to him. The other scions began to filter in their own aether as Hades began to shudder in pain, a shard of pure light grew from his core, impaling him. As he gripped it to pull it out the Scions called out to Mikha to finish him off. 

Mikha knew what he needed to do, he knew that it had to be done regardless of his feelings but that did not ease the pain. He reached up and in his hand formed an axe made of pure light, Ardbert’s axe, which he then threw straight at Hades where the shard of light was. There was a brilliant burst as it tore through him, clashing with his darkness before finally cutting through him completely. 

Once he could see again the Warrior of Light saw the axe through what he realized to be a hole threw Hades’, no, now again Emet’s chest. Slowly he raised his eyes to the man's face and where he expected to see anger or pain he saw calm. 

“Remember...remember us.” He winced in pain as he continued, “Remember...that we once lived.” 

Mikha was so overcome with emotion that all he could do was nod in agreement and before the light finally took him emet smiled, it was soft, loving, relieved. It was the Emet he knew, the one he had woken up and fallen asleep with. As he disappeared Mikha felt tears well in his eyes and he pursed his lips, he could not cry now not in front of the scions who did not know of his relationship with their enemy. 

Once Emet was completely gone the scions came to speak with Mikha and confirm for themselves how he fared. The axe slowly dissipated back into light and then the sound of someone approaching drew their attention, ragged and worse for wear limped over G’raha Tia who began to apologize and try to explain himself. The warrior of light while saddened by Emet’s death was also very overjoyed at seeing G’raha Tia alive and not dying. 

He looked at him and said “‘Tis good to see you awake, G’raha Tia”

What he had not expected was for G’raha Tia to begin crying, then he smiled wetly and said “Well…’tis good to be awake!”

They all headed back to the surface, the sun now shining over the ruins of the ancient city of Amaurot, Mikha bent over and picked up a piece of Hades auracite. They were all patched up and ordered to rest in bed for the next few weeks, people cheered in the streets and hailed them, heroes, as they went on their way to the pendants. Once everyone had gotten a room they said farewell for the night and went to rest. 

That night after all the grime of battle and the ocean were cleaned off and he was comfortable, sleep still evaded him. Sorrow had settled in his bones, weighing him down, he wanted to cry and scream, without another thought he slipped into the aetheric network of Novrandt and teleported to the Tempest, to the Macarenses Angle. The lack of people made it easy for him to find a place to let out his grief, to cry to his heart's content, to scream if he needed to. 

As the tears ran down his cheeks in a never-ending stream of pain he remembered the look on Emet’s face as he died, he looked so peaceful, calm, relieved, as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He wondered what it felt like to finally be able to let go and he was glad he had not thought to bring weapons with him for he truly did not know if he could resist finding out and joining him in the afterlife. Did that make him a coward he wondered? Surely when one is burdened with a responsibility as heavy as his, so much pressure placed upon them for so long entertaining the idea of escaping it is reasonable even the means are not. 

He knew that no matter how much he yearned to be with him it would never come to pass. For even if he tried, Haedalyn herself would bring him back, she had before and would probably do so again. He cried for a long time, probably longer than he ever had in his life, clutching the auracite piece to his chest, he remembered every moment they had spent together from the ones with everyone to the secret stolen ones when they were able to be alone. Sitting in the shade of the giant trees that surrounded Fanow, by the blue flowers that marked the lifestream with Emet’s head in his lap listening while Mikha hummed a soft lullaby he heard once, but he doesn’t remember where only that it fills him with peace and nostalgia, as carded his fingers through Emet’s hair looking up that canopy above them. He looked down when he felt gloved fingers brush his cheek. 

“Did I wake you?” he hummed softly.

“No, I could not sleep because you captivate me so” he spoke softly, gently stroking Mikha’s cheek.

Mikha smiled softly, “I’m sorry,” as he leaned in and kissed Emet on the forehead. 

“There is nothing to be sorry for dearheart,” Emet hummed gently, “if you didn’t catch my attention we may never have even met” 

“I love you, Emet”

“I know”

That had been one of their most peaceful and pure moments together and remembering it now pulled a fresh round of tears and sobs out of him. He had begun crying so hard he could barely breathe, hours or maybe minutes passed before he noticed a tall figure standing before him, it was Hythlodeus. 

“He is gone,” he stated, “and you miss him, do you remember who you once were?”

He shook his head as he sniffled trying to calm his sobs. 

“That is alright, even if you don’t remember you still cared, you still have the right to miss as anyone else.” he sat down beside the warrior, “may I offer you some comfort, I knew him well and saw what he went through when he lost you the first time.”

“Thank you” Mikha hiccuped around a sob as he hugged Hythlodeus’ torso. 

Hythlodeus simply hummed and patted his hair soothingly, “It will get easier, time will heal this wound, as will good friends and rest.” 

Once the sobs subsided and the warrior began to feel tired he spoke once more “ Thank you, for this for everything, I am sorry that I must leave now but my friends they-”

“Are probably worried? Worry not I understand, go to them and if you ever need me to know that I am here.” he interrupted with what seemed like a smile and helped the warrior stand up. 

Mikha gave him one last hug before teleporting back to the Crystarium and his room in the Pendants, once he arrived he immediately passed out holding the auracite against his heart. In the morning when the others came to check on him he placed it on his bedside table as he stumbled out of bed to open the door. He knew they would be able to tell he had been crying but none of them confronted him about it. 

After the scions filtered out G’raha Tia, with the assistance of Lyna, came to see him, Lyna stayed outside to allow them some privacy. He had brought a basket of sandwiches and some juice with him for them to share. After some light conversation, they fell into companionable silence on the couch. 

“I know he was important to you and I do not feign to understand how.” He spoke carefully, “If you ever need anything please do not shy away from coming to me, I care for you deeply and would be willing to anything within my power to help.”

“I know, but there are somethings I dare not ask of you because I care for you and I wish for you to be safe and not push yourself too far,” Mikha said as he leaned his head on G’raha’s shoulder, “you are my very dearest friend, I can confide in you things that which I can tell no one else.”

“If that will ease this pain you feel then you can tell me anything,” G’raha blushed, “I would be your shoulder to cry on, the ear you whisper your darkest fears into, the one who holds you while you cry, anything to make you happy.” 

A single tear rolled down Mikha’s face as he buried in G’raha Tia’s neck, “Words cannot express what this means to me, G’raha Tia”

**Author's Note:**

> So I spent a few days working on this one and it's got some sad, some soft, some in-between. I hope you enjoyed reading it and if you want to leave a kudos and/or comment that would just make my day thank you so much for reading!
> 
> and as I said in the notes at the top, if you are thinking of suicide in any capacity pls consider seeking help, thank you.


End file.
